


dial tone

by iwaoist



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Challenge: 500 Words, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, Post-Timeskip, blame amber spikyiwaizumi ember3ye for this, mentions of tokyo olympics, timeskip compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:22:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29542311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwaoist/pseuds/iwaoist
Summary: "Hajime thought about him often." — a short vignette, wherein Hajime considers that there's a possibility ahead of him that he might want to pursue.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Yaku Morisuke
Kudos: 4





	dial tone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ember3ye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ember3ye/gifts).



> amber said i was only allowed to write something for her if it was 500 words and we all know i cannot back down from a challenge

Hajime thought about him often. He wanted to call, thumb hovering over the call button for the number he hadn’t let himself indulge in dialling. He had no reason to contact Morisuke — the Olympics were over, Morisuke was back in Russia, and Hajime was left reeling, recalling a night in the Olympic Village that they’d both agreed would be forgotten after the sun rose over them. 

He wasn’t in love with Yaku Morisuke. It was obvious, to Hajime at least; but there was something about Morisuke that kept haunting him in the most sinfully glorious way. Morisuke was a testament to what might be, to what has been — an endless loop of possibilities that Hajime was unable to get a grasp on. 

Hajime remembered the way Morisuke had seethed at him, anger hidden behind a lop-sided, drunken grin and a tilt of the head that was charming and terrifying in equal measure. “We lost, thanks to your captain and his shitty setter dump.”

“Former captain,” Hajime had corrected him without thinking, tipping back the shot of rum with only a slight hiss — he wasn’t fond of its taste. 

“Former captain,” Morisuke confirmed. He offered Hajime a shrug, and his gaze had been unreadable. Hajime knew he still wouldn’t be able to read it now. “It’s still his fault. And he isn’t here, so I’m gonna blame you.”

Hajime didn’t care much. Tooru’s business wasn’t his business. Not like that. “So what? Are you gonna bitch at me because you lost the Olympics?”

“That’s not nice. Especially when you’re our AT.” 

“I did all I could. Trained you best I could.”

“Should’ve tried harder.”

Hajime remembered that he’d glowered at Morisuke, who’d almost pushed him up against the bar at this point. They weren’t really angry. Neither of them really cared. But as rum shots and jaegerbombs settled into their stomachs, the heady mix of emotions was easily misinterpreted on both their parts. 

No one had noticed their absence that night.

So here was Hajime, months down the line, alone in his apartment on a Friday night and finding himself still tainted with the drunken kisses of a ghost of a man he barely knew anyway. If he thought about it hard enough, he could feel Morisuke’s kiss like he was still in the room, rather than thousands of miles away. 

Was he pathetic for wondering if Morisuke thought about it too? It wasn’t like Hajime thought about it often. It was only when he heard the familiar calls to settle down, or he was sent yet another wedding invitation from old friends, that he thought about what it would have been like to have pursued something, anything, with Morisuke. It was an itch, buried deep inside of his skin, that he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to scratch away at. It was utterly unfathomable that anything would ever come of it — especially with Hajime’s hesitance. But wasn’t it worth a shot? 

He pressed call.


End file.
